Steadfast as the Stars Above
by JDPhoenix
Summary: It was not meant to be like this. With him so small and weak, fighting every second to find purchase on a tiny world that spins faster than he can fathom. He wanted to be strong for her. [soulmates AU]


Disclaimer: I don't make any claim to own Thor or Jane or any of their friends or enemies. Even the soulmate premise that bore this fic is borrowed.

AN: Spoilers through Thor 2.

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Darcy's with her two weeks before she asks (demands) to see. Jane's been through this before; usually at middle school sleepovers or drunken college parties. Those situations typically involved everyone taking turns and Jane was always quick to disappear before they began. It wasn't fair, she thought, to see anyone else's when she wasn't about to show off hers.

But now Darcy's sitting at the breakfast table, pulling the collar of her sweater low so Jane can see her collarbone.

_ No use crying over spilled motor oil._

Those are Darcy's words. The first words she'll ever hear her soulmate say.

Jane doesn't reach for her arm but it itches where she knows her words are branded. It doesn't _really_ itch, she knows. It's a phantom sensation brought on by her own self-conscious feelings about her words. It's silly and juvenile and she should really be over this by now.

"Oh come _on_," Darcy says. She lets her sweater snap back into place and begins gathering the dishes. "It can't be any worse than my motor oil thing."

In three weeks Jane's gotten to know Darcy well enough to realize this topic won't be going away anytime soon. If she gives in now, maybe it'll pass quickly and she can avoid a lot of needless suffering. Or she'll be inviting a whole different kind of suffering but nothing ventured, right?

While Darcy rinses off their plates, Jane shrugs out of her loose over shirt. Underneath she's wearing only a tank top, leaving the marks on her right arm clearly visible.

Darcy babbles on for a while, bouncing back and forth between her own words and how silly she thinks it is for Jane to hide hers.

"Unless-"

Jane's in the middle of rolling her eyes for at least the twelfth time in the last five minutes when Darcy finally spins around. Her hands are at her mouth like she can hold back whatever thought has put that expression on her face.

"They're not … _mine_, are they?"

"What?" Jane asks and it's so absurd that it takes her a minute to grasp just what Darcy's asking. "What! No! Darcy, you get that soulmates implies a mutual thing, right? And when have I ever said anything to you about _motor oil_?"

One of Darcy's hands settles over her heart and the other grips the counter behind her. Jane's not _that_ bad an option for a soulmate. Is she?

Jane pushes the thoughts aside and rolls her shoulder forward, inviting Darcy to notice the words.

"Oh!" Darcy rushes over to get a better look. It takes her nearly a minute to work up the courage to say it. "Um … what _is_ it?"

Jane shrugs her shirt back on. "I don't know." Her tone is clipped and she'd love to leave it there but she knows she can't. It makes it a little easier that Darcy is wearing a look of sincere pity instead of her usual sarcastic expression.

Jane reaches for the words, if that's even what they are. When she was growing up, she spent more hours than she'd like to admit staring at them, wondering over them. She knows the shapes of them by heart. The dips and swirls, the sharp edges and breaks. The way the first iteration weaves into the second and the second into the first again like a two-snake ouroboros wrapped around her bicep.

She just doesn't know what it _means_.

"I've tried researching it," she says, "but I can't find a translation."

"You think it's another language?"

Jane silently reminds herself that not everyone has read every article on soulmate marks written in the last half century. Because, unlike Jane, not everyone needs to. (Aren't these things supposed to make her life _simple_?)

"It's supposed to be a direct transcript of the first words you hear them say. I had a roommate in college whose mark was in Mandarin. She took a semester abroad just to meet the guy."

"Aw, that's sweet."

"Would've been, if she hadn't met him two days after she got _back_."

Darcy laughs and it's a nice shift in the tone of the conversation. After a moment, Darcy's eyes settle on the spot Jane's still rubbing. "Maybe he's just drunk and it's really slurred."

Jane smiles, if a little thinly. "Maybe."

Darcy seems to think that's the end of the conversation and gets back to the paperwork Jane set her to yesterday. Jane stays where she is, lost in thought. She knows she'll be in a slump the rest of the day. It's for exactly this reason that she tries not to think of her soulmate very often.

She's pretty sure the unreadable marks are the universe's way of telling her he doesn't exist at all.

.

Everyone has seen Thor's mark.

The Aesir are more knowledgeable than other races and are given the choice of how they will be marked. Many choose the words they will first hear their mate utter. Others choose to simply wear the name of their future beloved.

Thor chooses titles. It is not a common choice because of how easily it might cause confusion, but Thor has none of that trouble. As he knew he would not. No queen of Asgard would simply be queen. She would be, as his mark says, _Daughter of Stars, Guardian of Souls, Bridge Builder._

All of this and more is written on Thor's back.

When he first awakened after the spell was cast, he stripped himself bare searching for the mark. When he could not see it anywhere, he ran, naked as he was, into Loki's room to steal a mirror that he might have two to search his back. With them he can see the titles, so many they stretch from shoulder to shoulder, nearly from neck to buttocks.

"She will be widely known," Frigga says when Thor presents the words to his mother and father that very morning. After dressing, of course.

"As any queen of Asgard must be," Odin says blithely.

Though his back is to her, Thor knows Frigga must be giving Odin a _look_ by the way his father's face crinkles in mild amusement.

"I cannot read these words," Frigga says and that gives Odin pause. Thor as well.

He was not able to decipher all of it during his brief perusal but he assumed his mother, far more knowledgeable than he, would know their meaning. He can feel her fingers hovering over his ribs and tries to match his memory of the marks to the sensation.

"They are … I _believe_ it may be the language of the Dark Elves."

"Impossible," Odin pronounces. Frigga neither agrees nor disagrees, only continues her examination.

Thor does not worry about the parts he does not understand. The sheer length of it all is enough for him.

For the first hundred years or so Thor goes shirtless in the training yard whenever the chance arises. He even shows the marks off in battle - when it is not _completely_ foolhardy to do so.

He stops the day Loki becomes a Keyholder in the Order of Tiurn.

It is a proud day for the house of Odin. The Order is well known throughout the Nine Realms as a bastion of knowledge. It is said a single Keyholder bears more knowledge than the royal library of Asgard. Which Thor can well believe now that Loki is among their number. But his brother is not the first Keyholder he has a connection to. Or he will not be the only one, at any rate.

That night Thor stands between his mirrors. (Loki did not want the stolen mirror returned and now Thor keeps it in his room, arranged just so before his own mirror that he might look upon his mate's accomplishments whenever he wishes.) He reads the familiar words. _Keyholder, third class, Order of Tiurn._ He has stumbled over the title before. It was the third class that galled him, the idea that his future queen would be anything but the best. But he sees it in a new light in these moments.

The ceremony marking Loki's induction was held in the Order's citadel. The Warriors Three, though supportive of Loki's achievement, passed much of the time quietly mocking the wise men and women for their lack of physical strength. Not a one of them could stand against even a simple troll.

Thor has always been buoyed by the titles his future bride would bear but now he sees what they lack. Not a one of them, none that he can read at any rate, speaks plainly of glories won in battle. That is not to say none of them _might_. The Guardian of Souls holds promise, as does the Vanquisher of Doug. But Thor has no idea what "Doug" even means and he is not willing to put much weight on the single title.

"What if she is not a warrior?" he asks Loki.

The brothers sit upon the steps at the edge of the training ring. They are alone at this time of day and no one has commented on Thor's clothing. Though he knows they want to.

He is not ashamed of her now that he has noticed her lack. Her _potential_ lack, he reminds himself. He only thinks, perhaps, he should not be so quick to tell all and sundry of her if she cannot protect herself from harm.

"You will protect her," Loki says blandly, "as any king must his queen."

"A warrior cannot be everywhere at once."

Loki leans back while Thor is bent forward. Loki's eyes slide from Thor's face down the length of his spine and Thor imagines his brother can see the hidden words. Or perhaps he has seen them often enough to know them by heart.

"You think, with all her accomplishments, it is possible she does not know how to wield a sword?"

Thor does not answer but the worry is a stone on his heart. She has always seemed so glorious, so strong. But what if she is weak?

"Then you must be strong in her weakness," Loki says and Thor realizes he spoke aloud. "Otherwise you will be unhappy in the match and you will have wasted the gift the universe saw fit to bestow upon you."

"How did you come to be so wise?" Thor asks.

Loki tilts his head in a way that is somehow both pitying and mocking. "I listen to Mother."

Thor can smile again, if only a little. If there is one thing he knows how to be, it is strong. He can do this for her and when they meet, he will be able to defend her from anything.

ii.

He is mortal and weak, rejected by his own weapon. Is this to be the end of Thor Odinson? Not entirely mortal though. It is some comfort that the Midgardian spirits do not affect him the way they do Erik Selvig and watching the man's valiant attempts at keeping up lifts Thor's mood, if only slightly.

He leaves the sleeping Erik in Jane's moving home and accompanies her into her lab for cocoa.

He has no more idea what cocoa is than he understands why Jane lives in her tiny wheeled home when she has a solid building a stone's throw away. But she has been kind to him when he did not deserve it and he finds it impossible not to return her smiles. He will give her the benefit of the doubt.

The lab looks bare now that SHIELD has picked it over. Jane slows her purposeful steps and her shoulders tighten. No doubt the echo causes her the same unease it does him. Thor inspects what has been left behind and watches from the corner of his eye as she prepares this "cocoa."

A flimsy box holds framed pictures. A child Thor recognizes Jane's smile in stands with a dark haired man. The man appears in two more pictures in the box; one with a younger Erik and another where the man is Darcy's age and staring longingly into the eyes of a woman in a white dress. The woman has Jane's smile.

Thor looks to see that Jane has not taken notice of his prying and hastily returns the pictures to the box. The largest of the frames, still wedged into the box, gets in his way and he pulls it back, annoyed that it is making his crime so difficult to hide. There is no picture displayed inside but a white paper with artfully drawn words. Tucked into the top corner of the frame is a small rectangle of paper. What is written on it does not truly register with Thor until he has already shoved the last of the pictures back into place.

The words on Thor's back feel heavy suddenly. They are an itch, driving him to pull the large frame from its place. He gently touches the small slip of paper.

"What is this?" he asks. The question comes out harsher than he intends. Luckily Jane sees the slightly sheepish expression on his face and seems to attribute it to the uncomfortable echo.

"That's my diploma. Almost done." She turns back to the cocoa. Thor tugs the smaller piece of paper free and hurriedly crosses the room.

"No," he says, mustering all the patience he is able. It is a terribly difficult task for one unused to waiting for what he wants. "_This_." He points to the small symbols printed on either side of Jane's name. He can feel those same symbols burning against his shoulder blade as he waits for her answer.

She stares blankly at the paper for a moment before her expression softens into fondness.

"I forgot all about this."

He lets her take the paper from his hand, too surprised by her reaction to do anything else. She smiles down at it as she leans against the counter.

"My dad got these for me. A friend of his gave him a deal." She seems to remember suddenly that Thor is there and blushes. "It was a gag gift for my graduation. Astrophysicists don't really need business cards but he was so proud." She smiles fondly at the card once more.

"The symbols," Thor croaks. Loathe as he is to break into her happy memories, he _needs_ to know. "The ones flanking your name. What do they mean?"

She blinks at him and he fights down the urge to shake her and demand an answer. Her eyes go wide as realization dawns and is quickly replaced with genuine concern.

"You really aren't from …," she trails off and busies herself pulling two steaming mugs from a metal box upon the counter. Then, more firmly, says, "'Dr. Jane Foster, Ph.D.' It means I studied astrophysics in school for pretty much as long as you can study it and, when I proved there was nothing left for them to teach me, they gave me a fancy title." She shrugs as though to downplay this accomplishment. "I also have a degree in engineering, but it's just a bachelor's. That's how I built … well, all the stuff that _used_ to be in here."

She stares at the empty spaces around them, looking lost in her own home. Thor feels as lost as she is. It was not meant to be like this. With him so small and weak, fighting every second to find purchase on a tiny world that spins faster than he can fathom.

He takes the cups from the counter and steps away, further into Jane's vision. It breaks the spell of melancholy over both of them.

"Where to?" he asks and is rewarded with a true smile.

"Up," she says and leads him to the stairs.

The roof takes them high enough that, when reclined, he forgets they are in a town. The sky opens up above them and he wants to tell her how alike it is to the sky over Asgard. And how very different. How his own sky is not all black like this but filled with color and so many stars there is no need to fear the dark of night. But her journal weighs heavy in his coat and when he returns it to her, he thinks her glowing thanks might just be worth a lifetime under mortal skies.

Loki once called this connection a gift bestowed by the universe itself. A gift indeed, to soften his lowest of moments thusly. But not a gift for her.

He has none of his strength, none of his power. He brings her a pitiful journal when he promised all her belongings returned. He cannot protect her, cannot even behave as a man of this world.

When she falls into an easy sleep he lifts his eyes to the heavens and prays. His heart rebels, the marks on his back seem to burn in defiance, but still he asks that it not be Jane Foster.

.

His friends come. The Destroyer comes. And Jane refuses to leave his side.

She is exactly the sort of woman he always hoped for and yet is not at all. It is infuriating and heartening all at once. Further proof that it is her, as if every second in her presence has not been enough to convince him. He never thought Yggdrasil so cruel.

Sif and the Warriors Three distract the Destroyer long enough to evacuate the area but they are no match for its power.

It has been sent for him. He knows this as certainly as he knows Jane is his mate. He cannot defeat it, stands even less of a chance than his friends. But the Destroyer is controlled by Loki and if he cannot reason with his brother, perhaps he can satisfy him.

There is a moment, brief as it may be, when he thinks he has talked Loki Silvertongue down.

In that short interval between the Destroyer striking him and the pain registering in his brain, he is actually proud. It is just the sort of trick Loki has always pulled and he should have seen it coming.

Jane appears above him but he does not fear for her. He can hear the Destroyer leaving, returning to the Bifrost. Its footsteps reverberate through the ground but the vibrations do not jostle him the way they should. His injuries barely hurt at all and his body feels like a distant thing. He has been a warrior his whole life long. He knows what this means.

She looks so sad and her hands are upon him. He wishes he could better feel her touch. He did not appreciate their day together as he ought. By the Tree, was it truly only a day? There should have been so much more. Joys and sorrows to fill a thousand mortal lifetimes.

"It's over," he says and instantly wishes he could take the words back. They seem to break something within her.

"No." She tries to be firm but there are tears in her voice. "It's not over."

There was so much promise in the words upon his back. And, he realizes, there still is. She _will_ bear all those titles. She will survive this day and though he will not see her accomplish great things, he will die knowing of the great life laid out before her. It _is_ a gift, more than he could hope for, and he cannot curse Yggdrasil in these last moments.

"I mean," he says, hoping to somehow ease her mind, to impart some of the peace he has found to her, "you're _safe_." It is what he always wanted for her, ever since that day in the training yard at Loki's side.

"_We're_ safe."

She is so insistent. He wishes he had the strength to reach up, to touch her one final time, but he cannot even shake his head.

"It's over." He tries not to think of all that could have been and instead watches her face until he can see it no longer.

iii.

It takes fifteen minutes of quiet in Jane's shiny, new lab for them to realize something's wrong. It just isn't possible for Darcy's phone to go that long without beeping or buzzing or ringing with a text or update to some social networking site.

That's how the two of them find out about New York.

Darcy yells a lot at the SHIELD agents masquerading as a janitor and a hot grad student. She seems pretty torn between indignation on Jane's behalf and blind rage over her phone being blocked. Jane doesn't really notice. She can't look away from the grainy footage.

_ He's there_.

She _should_ be thinking about that giant hole in the sky and the technology necessary to create something like that and the stars visible on the other side - and she is, kinda. It's just that at the moment all of that seems secondary to the brief flashes of bright red and the thunderstorm that's appearing out of nowhere. Granted, it could be the result of atmospheric disturbances due to the _giant gaping hole to another world_ (and Jane screams a little internally at the very idea) but she knows the truth. It's Thor.

There's almost no evidence for it. Even if the lightning is being directed, there have to be other people out there with Thor's abilities. But no matter how she tries, Jane cannot tamp down the conviction that _he is there_. Here. On Earth. On the other side of the world.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jane asks, unsurprised by how unfamiliar her own voice sounds.

By now Darcy's quieted down and taken her post at Jane's side, holding her hand in silent moral support. She spares the agents a glare since Jane isn't about to turn away from the screen.

"Tell you…?" one of them asks.

"About Thor, you turd," Darcy snaps.

"We didn't know about Thor's presence on Earth until shortly before the battle began."

Jane sits up straighter while Darcy swivels all the way around in her rolling chair.

"You're not here because of Thor," Jane says.

"No, ma'am."

There's a brief moment of quiet in the room, allowing the dulled screams and crashes from the television to grow more prominent. Jane squeezes Darcy's hand, a silent request that Darcy say what they're both thinking.

"Then why _are_ you here?"

Another moment of quiet while the agents consider the wisdom of telling them the truth. Jane's not moving until the battle's over. That's a given. But if these two don't tell her something useful by the time it's done, she _will_ throw this TV at their heads.

There's a faint squeaking and another rolling chair is brought around on Jane's open side. The older agent, the janitor, sits backwards in the chair so he can look at her while he talks. She doesn't bother looking at him.

"Two days ago another portal opened spontaneously in an underground SHIELD facility. A single extraterrestrial came through. Though we'd never encountered him before, we recognized the name. Loki."

Jane knows that name too. She knows Thor laughed at memories of his brother's tricks while they made breakfast together. She knows Loki _lied_ to Thor about their father's death. She knows Loki sent the Destroyer. And she knows it was Loki Thor left her behind to fight.

She's spent months wondering which of them won that battle and she still doesn't have an answer.

"He took some of our resources as well as several SHIELD agents and assets hostage under some form of mind control."

"Assets?" Darcy asks.

"Mind control?" Jane says.

"Dr. Erik Selvig was one of those assets."

"No," Jane breathes. For the first time she's not looking at the TV. She's hoping it's a lie. A joke. A dream. She heard wrong. She's hallucinating from the jet lag. _Anything_.

But it's true. She can see it on the agent's face before he even speaks. "I'm sorry."

Jane stands before she even realizes she's planning to move. She and Darcy are still holding hands and the younger woman is pulled with her. Still, neither of them let go.

"Where is he?" Jane asks.

"Dr. Foster…" The other agent tries to calm her down, holding his hands out like she's a wild animal.

"We don't know where he is," the lead agent says, his voice measured. He's so damn calm all Jane wants to do is smack him. Erik has been _kidnapped_ and _brain washed_ and it's _her fault!_ He never would have gone near SHIELD if it weren't for her. If anything happens to him...

"But he's probably in New York," Jane surmises. "Why else would an advanced alien culture need a theoretical astrophysicist unless they needed his help to build _that_?" She gestures to the screen, which is currently showing a ruined street with the portal nowhere in sight, but she figures everyone understands her meaning. "I'm going to New York. I am going to find Erik and I am going to help him, with or without SHIELD's permission. Understood?"

The younger agent moves to block the door. Darcy stiffens at Jane's back.

"No, you're not," the lead agent says calmly. "There's no telling how this battle will go and we have standing orders to remove you to the nearest secure SHIELD facility if we determine you're in potential danger." He stands and moves the chair out of the way so he can stand close enough that she has to tilt her head. "Given this little display of yours? We're going."

.

Jane spends forty-eight hours in a place called the Ice Box. They give her a tablet that allows her to monitor the goings on in the world outside without actually letting her interact with anything as well as a bed that's not the worst she's ever slept on. (Not that she gets more than a few hours in and she's pretty sure that's only because they drug her food. She doesn't eat again after that.)

The place feels like a prison and it probably is one. Still, the agents who bring her food and a generator to charge the tablet she refuses to put down are nice enough. They all give her pitying looks like they've been briefed on her situation. Or like they know something she doesn't.

By the time they let her out the news feeds are no longer showing non-stop New York coverage. Most of it is still talk of aliens and superheroes and covert government organizations but it's starting to be broken up by ongoing international crises that didn't actually stop for the invasion and that celebrity marriage that's breaking up.

SHIELD flies her straight to New York on one of its planes and though Jane knows it's probably their way of being nice (or of keeping an eye on her as long as possible), it's really the least they can do under the circumstances.

The certainty that she'll be there soon cuts Jane's strings. Between the move and the invasion, Jane's barely slept twelve hours in the last ninety-six. While she drifts off, her worries fading under the certainty that she'll be there soon, she finally thinks of the words on her arm and the man who will one day say them. She feels a little bit of guilt for thinking of her soulmate, assuming he even exists, last of all during a global crisis.

Darcy's sure he does. Exist, that is. That's the _rule_, after all. Everyone is destined for someone, no matter how weird or illegible their mark is.

She gives her upper arm a little squeeze. It's probably the worst thing that Jane's ever done, but she hopes Darcy's wrong because the only person Jane wants is definitely not her match.

.

Darcy is waiting by a cab when Jane exists the airport. She managed to talk her way out of the Ice Box on account of being "just an intern" and "not potentially part of a power struggle between two godly brothers." It stung Jane a little, in the moment, to be left all alone in SHIELD's clutches but she was also grateful not to have to worry about Darcy on top of Thor and Erik. Plus, it didn't escape her notice that a shady government organization was about to bury her and it would be nice if _someone_ knew about it.

She jumps straight into the cab and Darcy hurries after her. Jane doesn't have anything except the clothes on her back and her necessary documents. Everything else either Darcy took ahead or it's still sitting in Norway. SHIELD can afford to keep her stuff for her after all they've pulled.

They're silent the first ten minutes. A new record for Darcy. Jane's sure if it goes on much longer she's gonna throw up. Her fingers dig into the edge of the seat.

"Tell me."

"Erik's fine," Darcy says, overbright. "Well, not _fine_. But he's alive and the giant bruise taking up half his face is from an Avenger, so that's kinda cool. I guess they call it 'cognitive recalibration' which is just a fancy way of saying they break through the mind warpies by hitting you really hard. The doctors say the concussion is better than whatever Loki was doing to Erik's brain, so it's kind of a lesser of two evils sort of thing."

"What about Thor?"

"It took me a whole day to get in to see Erik though," Darcy goes on. She says it loudly like that'll prove she didn't hear Jane's question even though they're two feet apart. "SHIELD's all in a mess because Loki tried to take down their flying base and it took a while for my calls to be forwarded since I don't have any security clearance to speak of." Darcy's silent for a beat while Jane plucks her fingers away from the nail-scarred seat. "Don't you want to know why my calls had to be forwarded?"

Jane sighs. "Why Darcy?"

Darcy's quiet another second and Jane's just about ready to yell at her when-

"Coulson's dead."

Jane's head whips around to face Darcy but only for a split-second before she closes her eyes and lets her head fall back.

"Darcy. You've told me that Erik has a concussion and a bruise over half his face and that Coulson, a guy I didn't even like all that much, is dead. All before you tell me about Thor. And I _really_ doubt this is one of those times where you're giving me the bad news first. So please just tell me before I pass out or throw up or both?" She turns pleading eyes on her friend.

Darcy's mouth opens and a broken sound comes out. She swallows, breathes deep, tries again. "Thor _left_. The day after the battle."

Jane closes her eyes and this time doesn't open them until they arrive at the hospital where Erik's staying. She knows if she does, she'll start to cry.

iv.

It doesn't hurt at all and Jane's not sure if that's a good thing. The Aether is an element capable of destroying literally the _entire universe_ and it's _inside her_. Shouldn't it hurt?

She watches the faint glow move beneath her skin. Sometimes she thinks it looks like sunlight on water or clouds moving in the wind or heat rising off asphalt. But mostly she thinks it looks like nothing in her experience. She runs a finger over her forearm, following the Aether's trail. It twists and dips like a living thing. She should probably be afraid that she isn't more afraid of that.

The Aether's glow curls around her elbow and Jane slaps her hand over her upper arm. She can't stop it from touching her soulmate mark but she can make it clear this part of her isn't negotiable. She's been more protective of the mark lately. She still hides it in public but she's not so quick to overlook it when she's preparing for bed or getting dressed in the morning. It's guilt and maybe a little bit of hurt.

After Thor left and it became clear he'd made no mention to anyone of plans to return to Earth anytime soon, Jane cried. A lot. Really, it was a seriously embarrassing amount of crying.

She didn't _just_ cry though. She visited Erik every day during his therapy and packed Darcy's lunches when she joined one of the clean up New York volunteer groups. It's just that when she wasn't doing those things, she was mostly crying. Sometimes it was because Thor was gone. Sometimes because of Erik and the broken city outside. Sometimes it was even for Coulson. And sometimes she just cried without even understanding why.

More than a few times she cried over her mark; over the man it predetermined for her. Once she even wished her soulmate would just show up already so she could stop looking to the door every time a storm blew into town. She immediately regretted it and spent weeks on eggshells, alternately hoping she'd get her wish and hoping she wouldn't so she could still have the dream of Thor.

"You'd better be one heck of a guy," she mutters, still clutching her right arm, "because I honestly have no idea how you're gonna measure up."

"Jane?" Thor calls gently. "Are you injured?"

Jane jumps up from her seat. Though she lets go of her arm, she's careful to tug the loose fabric of her sleeve over it.

"Oh no, I'm fine. I was just … talking to myself." She shrugs her left shoulder awkwardly.

Thor raises one eyebrow. He keeps his eyes on her but his knuckles brush against hers where she holds the sleeve in place.

"The Aether has not harmed you further?" he presses. His fingers move up, tugging at the slit in her sleeve. She ducks away from him and knows, from the look on his face, that she's both hurt and worried him.

Jane sighs heavily and sits again on one of the couches. "I have to tell you something. I probably should have told you before but …" There's really no way to end that sentence that doesn't sound both incredibly selfish and even more incredibly pathetic. She gestures for him to take a seat instead on the end of her couch. He does so cautiously and she can't really blame him for that.

She takes one final, fortifying breath. "It's not an injury. Humans have these things - we call them soulmate marks. They're the first words we'll ever hear … this person … say. There are a lot of theories behind them but the generally accepted belief is that you belong with whoever your mark matches you to."

She falls silent because anything past the cold, hard facts of it will be admitting what a terrible person she is.

"Jane," Thor says gently. His hand rests over hers, the weight of it forcing her to relax her fist when she hadn't even realized she was clenching it. Her palm hurts where her nails were digging in.

She shakes her head, cutting him off. "No. No, I have to tell you this. For two years I've been waiting for you and missing you and it would have been _so easy_ to forget about you and go back to waiting for my … for my soulmate, I guess. But I realized something while I was doing all that waiting on you."

Thor's hand flinches over hers and it gives her some measure of strength to know he isn't unaffected by their time apart either.

She looks him in the eye, because this can't be said any other way. "I don't want him. And I'm not asking you to return the sentiment or anything. I know that's a lot to dump on a guy who's not even your soulmate but … I thought you should know." Her gaze falls to her hands on her knees. She's wrinkling her skirt but all she can find it in her to care about is Thor and his hand slowly pulling away from her.

He stands and something in her stutters to a halt. It's probably her heart. But she's not about to cry again, not while he's still in her room anyway. She grips the fabric at her knees tighter, wondering just what is taking him so long, the door is the _other_ way. And then he's sitting next to her again, closer this time so his knee nudges hers. He carefully sets a piece of heavy paper on her lap, forcing her to release her death grip on her skirt to take it.

"What is this?" she asks. It looks like a list, several items scrawled in delicate Asgardian script. She can tell from the glistening of the ink that he's just written it out.

"I did not remember, when first we met, how Midgardians were marked. Some species bear first words where others bear names or the age they will be when they meet their mate. But while I was defending Midgard from Loki, my fellow Avengers spoke of it. At first I was confused but after seeking the council of my friends - and my mother - I understood."

Jane shakes her head, completely lost with where this conversation's going. "Understood what?"

He smiles. "I do not remember our first meeting well. If you recall, I was slightly…"

"Insane?" Jane offers.

"Out of sorts."

She answers his gentle scowl with an unapologetic grin.

He points to the first word he's written on the paper. "'Realm.'" And to the next. "'Vanaheim.' 'Mortal.'"

Jane's eyes travel farther down the page and she quickly points to the second to last word. She can't read it but she's known it all her life and, unlike him, she didn't get hit by a car and tasered at their first meeting. "Hammer," she says. When she looks up at Thor he's smiling.

"Hammer," he agrees.

When he reaches around her to pull aside her sleeve, she doesn't pull away. She twists in her seat, curling her knees up between them so he can better see. While he runs the pad of his thumb over the words she watches his face. His mouth is slightly open and his eyes wide in awe, as if he hasn't been able to read the simple word nearly all his life. She glances down at the familiar mark.

"I spent so long trying to figure out what language it could possibly be … Would've been easier if I'd known aliens were real." Of course, it never occurred to her even after she found out. She grasps his fingers and brings them to her mouth to kiss, suddenly overwhelmed by just how lucky she is.

"How did you know?" she asks.

There's a little bit of pride in his grin. "We Asgardians have marks as well."

She looks him over as if she'd be able to see it through his clothes. "Well then where's- Your back," she says, remembering that morning in her old lab. She thought the words on his back were a tattoo. There was no way all that could be from his soulmate.

He nods and begins unfastening his shirt. "We use magic to choose how we will be marked."

"And you chose, what? My doctoral thesis?"

He turns his back to her then and she thinks she might see a blush before he does. "I was young when I chose. Foolish."

"Well, yeah, if it meant your whole back got covered in it."

"I cared only about glory. My own - and yours." He allows his outer shirt to fall away and pulls the tighter, bottom layer over his head. "I chose to be marked with your titles, Jane."

She's confused all over again for a moment before she sees the "Dr. PhD." inscribed near his shoulder. Her fingertips hover over the rest. She can't touch it. It's _her_. Her future. And most of it is just as unintelligible as the mark on her arm was a few minutes ago. That's … probably for the best.

Thor seems to sense her hesitancy and faces her while he redresses. He is smiling unabashedly.

"What?" Jane asks. Now she's the one blushing and she's not even sure why.

Actually, she does. _Thor_ is her _soulmate_ (Darcy is going to flip). He's an _alien_ (this is definitely going to undermine a few of the standing soulmate theories when she gets home) and he's got all her future accomplishments written on his back. It probably means something that most of them are written in what look to be various extraterrestrial scripts. Her future just got a whole lot weirder.

"I am only thinking," Thor says, "this is much as I imagined I would tell you."

She only raises an eyebrow in invitation for him to continue. She's not sure she even has words anymore. The "what" pretty much tapped her out.

"As I said, I did not remember how your people were marked but I was fairly certain, however it was done, you did not recognize me anymore than I did you at first. After I dispatched the Destroyer, I could not take you with me." He grasps her hands in his. "I was about to go into a battle whose end I could not guess. I couldn't bear to risk your safety."

"I understand," Jane says. She does, even if it hurts all over again to hear him say it. His sigh of relief eases some of her pain; she can't fault him for caring about her.

"But I had plans to return. I was going to bring you to Asgard, show you all the sights and wonders and then…"

"And then tell me we were soulmates." Jane hasn't had a chance to do any tests yet, obviously, but she's pretty sure it's impossible not to smile when she says it. _They're soulmates_. There is nothing that could improve this moment.

As if in defiance of her, a brief flicker of red sparks in her vision. Thor sees it too, if his suddenly stoic expression is anything to go by. He grips her hands more tightly and brings them to his face, dotting kisses over her knuckles.

"You will survive this."

She tries to pull away but he holds her fast. "Thor. You don't know that."

"I do," he says with all the assurance of a prince. "When I lay on the streets of Puente Antiguo, dying-" Jane looks away- "I realized that my marks, though pridefully chosen, are a blessing. In them is the promise of a long life for you, Jane. In my youth I worried that you might be frail and untried by battle, but I know now that whatever may happen to me, you can and will survive all of this and more - and go on to do great things."

Jane is sure that without the Aether following her anger she would not be able to pull away from him and for a brief moment she's thankful for its presence. She stumbles from the couch and backs away. She doesn't want him touching her again, not when her anger might cause the Aether to lash out at any second.

"You _died_," she says. "You died and now you're telling me that you knew we were soulmates but it was somehow okay because you knew I'd go on without you?"

He reaches for her. "Jane-"

"No!" She dodges away. "You don't get to do that. I thought you died in New Mexico. I thought you died fighting Loki. I thought you died in New York! Well not again, mister! You get some great, cosmic reassurance that I'm not gonna die anytime soon, well I want one too! You promise me right now, Thor Odinson, that you are gonna do everything within your power _not_ to die on me." She's shaking and she can see he wants to hold her together but she doesn't need his touch right now, she needs his promise. "Deal?" she asks quietly.

Thor smiles at the reminder of their final moments together in New Mexico.

"Deal," he says readily. "I swear to you, I will do everything I can to ensure we each live long lives. Together."

Jane stumbles back to her seat on the couch and Thor follows. He holds a hand at her back while she sits to ensure she doesn't fall. He doesn't move away once she's settled and she grabs his free hand, pulling it to her lap.

"No dying," she says as she laces their fingers together.

"No dying," he agrees.

It may have taken him a while to deliver on his promise, but he _did_ come back for her eventually. She trusts him to keep his word.

v.

"So," Darcy says, "you're staying."

"Yes," Thor says in answer to Darcy, though he does not look at her. He finds himself unable to keep his gaze from Jane for long. He does not mind it terribly.

"With Jane."

The implications in this statement do not escape Thor - or anyone else for that matter. Darcy's beau looks uncomfortably away while Erik groans and returns to his calculations.

Jane is the first to speak. "We haven't actually talked about-"

"If she should have room for me," Thor says, "I would be most pleased to remain close to Jane."

Darcy's gaze travels quickly over him. "'Room for' you, huh?"

"_Darcy_," Jane snaps.

Darcy holds up her hands. "I'm not saying anything!" She pokes her beau. "I'm moving in with you."

The young man turns a disconcerting shade of pink but cannot seem to voice a protest. Thor bites his tongue to keep from laughing.

"Just try to keep it down while Erik's around," Darcy whispers in a tone that keeps no one out of the conversation. "He's been through a lot and you two kinda owe him for saving your lives."

"I would not soon forget Erik's ingenious inventions, nor the way he so quickly was able to fashion them into weapons."

Erik turns from his boards just long enough to gift Thor with an absent smile.

"Not _that_," Darcy says. "The thing with the ship!"

Jane stands abruptly. "I'm gonna go clean the kitchen."

"We only had cereal for breakfast," Darcy's beau says.

Jane either does not hear him or does not care to. Thor follows her.

She runs water in the sink and fusses over the arrangement of boxes in the cupboards. There truly is very little to do but Thor allows her as much time as she requires. When she finally settles, arms braced against the counter and back to him, he speaks.

"The ship?"

Her shoulders tense and she turns. "It's not a big deal. Malekith's ship just, sort of, fell down after you beat him."

"After _we_ defeated him."

Jane nods. Though she is still tense, a slight smile graces her features at his reminder. He could not have stopped Malekith without her, without all of them.

"And Erik…?" Thor prods.

"He sent the ship back to Svartalfheim before it could do any damage."

"That's good."

"It is."

"Then why will you not look at me?"

Jane immediately lifts her eyes from the tiled floor.

"Jane…"

She sighs heavily and moves to take a seat at the table. Thor takes the seat directly across from her. He would prefer to sit beside her but he feels, whatever is about to be said, she will appreciate the distance more.

"You were beneath the ship," she says. "It was going to fall on you."

"But Erik saved me. There is nothing to fear." He reaches for her hand but she pulls it back. "Jane," he says softly, "I know I promised you I would do my utmost to stay alive, but you cannot fault me for an event that did not even occur while I was unconscious."

"No! I'm not-!" She lets out a ragged noise. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just, kind of, overwhelmed."

She picks at one of the flimsy paper napkins still left on the table. "When the ship was falling and I knew there was nothing you could do to save yourself, I- well, I got mad. I was just _so angry_ that apparently I'm expected to keep living without you and I decided if the universe was going to take you … it would have to take me too."

Thor is uncertain how to respond and Jane, thankfully, leaves him no time to.

"I wasn't _trying_ to die or anything. It's just there was nowhere to run that would be safe and, if I was going to die, I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be in my last moments than with you."

She has torn the napkin to nothing and is left staring at her idle hands amidst the mess of scraps.

"You stayed with me," Thor says.

Jane nods but does not lift her eyes.

"Has it occurred to you," he asks, "that in doing so you might have saved my life as much as Erik did?"

That, at least, is enough to garner her full attention.

"You are destined to achieve great things and destiny is not easily thwarted. Perhaps the same design that has laid out your path set Erik to saving us that you might remain upon it."

Some of her shame and trepidation seems to ease. "You think so?"

"Perhaps."

It is enough to soothe her and he wishes he could keep from pressing the issue but he doubts he would be the man destined for Jane Foster if he could.

"However, I know you think the marks on my back are equal to the promise I gave you, but I would like your own promise in return." He reaches again for her hand and this time she allows him to take it. "I cannot bear the thought of you coming to harm."

She turns her hand beneath his that she might hold onto him as well. "So we're both gonna promise to be careful?"

"Deal," he says.

"Deal," she agrees.

They remain thus, happy to simply be in the sight of each other, for many peaceful minutes more.


End file.
